Dear Gudiya,

I have, after long hours of sleepless pondering, come to a consensus with myself, that you should indeed be blind as a bat. For even a colorless sight like those of a few ungifted beings would have enabled you to see in black and white what you have missed altogether amidst the colors you are dreaming of. Simple truths gudiya, simple unglamorous unambiguous unassuming truths, like the mountains that stand tall, or the clouds that rain slow- simple truths gudiya, and you miss them. I cannot blame you but; blame is for the less caring not for the careless, blame is for the eyes that are closed not for those that are blind. Let me paint you a picture gudiya, close those blind eyes and let me help you see gudiya, for a change let me paint this one on a black canvas, let me use words for brushstrokes and ideas for background. Far off in the distance the bright moon against the black sky lies awake to gaze upon the silver shimmering lake. A silhouette, a lonely boat and its occupant, a humble fisherman you say- a proud dreamer I claim, a fishing net in his hands, flung high and open, to fish you may think - to catch the moon I insist. No gudiya, we aren't in the picture, you are but unique enough to avoid being the cliched moon and I am too modest to be a moon catcher. I merely paint and you are being invited to view. I merely perform and you are being invited to see. So open your eyes gudiya and grant this orphaned show an audience in the least.

yours
the painter